Pretty Little LiarsThe Next Generation
by Lucy Fisher
Summary: It's been almost twenty years since Ali's disappearance, but as  the sons and daughters of the original Pretty Little Liars soon find out, nothing stays secret for long...  Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note—_

_This fan fiction _does_ have spoilers from the last book in the Pretty Little Liar series—so be warned! There will be four main characters in the series, just like the original series. Only the new characters belong to me, the original Pretty Little Liars and story belong to Sara Shepard. Enjoy!_

**Chapter One-Rhia**

Rhia Fields hadn't drunk a drop of alcohol since the accident, but it sure as hell felt like she was hung over now.

The seventeen year old slowly got up from her fetal position on her bed. Damn period. Screw Mother Nature and all those commercials that told females to "Have a happy period!" The day Rhia had a happy period, hell would freeze over.

Rhia tucked a strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear and groaned, as she pressed the lukewarm heating pad closer to herself. She closed her eyes and walked slowly down the hall, from her bedroom to the small kitchen. The bottle of Motrin was right on the counter. All Rhia had to do was take a few more and pop the heating pad back in the microwave, and she would be good to go.

The light on the answering machine was blinking, but Rhia didn't bother to check it. It was probably only her mother Emily, checking in on her. It wasn't like Rhia would be up to anything on a Saturday afternoon anyway.

Rhia considered herself to be straight edged. She never took drugs, or did heavy drinking, and she wasn't even sexually active. In other words, Rhia was as boring as they came.

But Rhia was okay with that, and so was her mother. Rhia knew Emily did a lot to provide for her family—she worked two jobs to make sure they could keep their middle class house. Granted, it was only a small ranch house, located a few miles outside of Rosewood, but at least they had a roof over their head. It was more than they did a few years ago, anyway.

Rhia took two Motrin, chugging down the water fast. She removed the heating pad from her gray sweatpants and placed it in the microwave, setting it for two minutes. She reached for a half-empty glass of milk on the counter and leaned back, drinking slowly.

Emily Fields was as laidback as they came. She owned her own business, a small candle and gift shop that had opened in downtown Rosewood a few years ago. She was also Treasurer for the Rosewood Chamber of Commerce and did a few Accounting jobs on the side, sometimes going out to Philly. Rhia knew she was lucky that Emily could juggle her life and career so well without losing it—Gillian Campbell's mother, Spencer, was still famously known for the professional meltdown she had two summers ago.

That was reason number one behind the close relationship between Rhia and her mother. Rhia knew if she ever came home hungover, or Heaven forbid, _pregnant_, Emily would just smile and tell Rhia things would be okay. There would be no yelling, Rhia wouldn't have to worry about being kicked out of the house.

The Motrin was already kicking in. Rhia smiled to herself, and then looked up at the clock. It was already close to 1PM. She could take it easy today. She had finished up all of her homework already, so maybe she could get the mail, catch up on some TiVo. Satisfied with her plan, she grabbed the mailbox key from the foyer-she looked down briefly at her sweats, then kept walking. There was no use changing, it wasn't like she was going to be running into anyone at all.

Rhia reached the mailbox quickly, her fingers sliding over the lock. She pulled the mail out and flipped through it absently mindedly as she headed back for the house. Mostly junk mail and a few bills, though there was the new issue of _Allure_ . Rhia looked up, feeling the warm September sun on her cheeks. She could sit outside maybe, flip through the magazine, and be home when Emily pulled into the driveway.

Rhia turned toward her left side, the nose of a car approaching his ears. She shuffled off toward the side of the road, the mailbox key jangling with her steps.

The car pulled up closer to Rhia and she panicked for a moment, thinking about the accident. But the driver rolled down the window, and peered out.

"Do you know if the Fields live here?"

The driver was pretty, around Emily's age. She had tight black curls and Rhia noticed her eyes had flecks of gold in them—like cat eyes.

"Yea. I'm Rhia Fields, actually."

The woman's eyes widened, the flecks of gold appearing larger. "Oh my God. Rhia… You look just like your mother."

Rhia just nodded politely —everyone said that.

"I'm Maya St. Germain." The woman stopped the car and glanced out again at Rhia, who was starting to feel nervous for some reason. "Is your mom home?"

Rhia shook her head lightly. "No. She's at work today. Won't be back until after dinner."

Maya sighed, pulled out a BlackBerry and checked the time. "I have to get going—pick up my daughter. Would you mind telling her I said hello, and I'll stop by later? We're old high school friends."

"Oh." That explained things, a little bit at least. Emily never talked about her life before Rhia and Rhia knew not to ask. It was like those old swim trophies stuffed in the back of Emily's closet. Rhia knew the story of why Emily never went to Arizona State on a swim scholarship, the reason why Emily never swam after high school. She told her daughter she tore a shoulder muscle screwing off during swim practice late one night and even though Emily never held her shoulder gingerly like an old injury, there was no way in hell Rhia would get the _real_ story out of her mother.

"Yeah. I'll tell her."

Maya smiled at Rhia and waved goodbye with her left hand, as she pulled away. Rhia noticed she wasn't wearing a ring.

Rhia spent the rest of the day watching TV and flipping through her magazines. She tried hard not to think about Maya, or her relationship with her mother. She told herself not to think about it, that there was a reason why her mother never told her about her high school life.

"I'm home."

It was already a quarter to six by the time Emily came home. Rhia got up slowly from her spot on the sofa and helped her mom with the containers of Chinese takeout she was holding in her hand. Emily sighed and kicked off her heels, before heading into the kitchen for plates.

"Thanks, babe. You doing okay?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah. I slept in, feel a ton better."

"Anything going on?" Emily asked, once Mother and Daughter had sat down, and taken a few bites of their food. Rhia chew on her soft noodles for a minute, before speaking.

"No. A woman named Maya drove by though, when I went to get the mail. She said she was an old high school friend of yours? She wanted to say hi. And she also said she would be by later."

Emily's face flushed, and those splotchy cheeks appeared under her face. Rhia felt her stomach flip. The only time her mother looked that ghostly was when Rhia's grandparents _used_ to call. But now they had retired to some Midwest state, and only sent birthday and Christmas cards. They never called, and if Emily had any siblings, she sure didn't keep in touch with them.

"Ok." Emily stood up suddenly, tossing the plate into the sink. Rhia stared as her mother walked away, quickly shuffling off toward her room.

Rhia sat there and ate the rest of her food in silence. It had been ten, maybe fifteen minutes since her mom had left the room, but she hadn't come out yet. Rhia was right—there was something about that Maya woman that Emily didn't want to talk about.

Rhia signed and put her plate in the sink. She had started to gather up the leftovers to put in the fridge, when the phone rang.

"You got it, Mom?" Rhia asked. But there was dead silence coming from her mom's room. With a sigh, Rhia closed the fridge doors and walked over to the phone, just as the machine picked up.

"You've reached Emily and Rhia Fields. Leave us a message," Rhia's breezy voice came over the line. The sound of the dial tone greeted Rhia's ears, but there was something else. She leaned over the phone and listened closely.

But whatever it was disappeared. Rhia looked at the caller ID and scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion, before walking back to her room.

There was only one letter that showed up under the "Unavailable" phone number—the letter A.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note_

_Thanks __so__ much to everyone who reviewed and added my story to their favorites and alerts! I know it's been a long time since I've updated and I'm really sorry. My last semester was crazy busy. But now that I have a few months off, I'm going to try to update this story more often. This chapter is shorter then Rhia's chapter, but hopefully you all enjoy it. Thanks again!_

**Chapter Two-Tristan**

"Full house. Again."

Tristan Montgomery smiled devilishly at his two younger sisters, as he set down his cards with a smack. He tugged a piece of his black hair, and turned toward Eve and Isis, who were _still_ staring at him in disbelief.

"You have got to be kidding," sixteen-year-old Eve complained, as she got up to grab another slice of pizza from the box resting on the coffee table.

"Use a plate!" Tristan shouted back.

"You know, you should really be doing this professionally," eighteen-year-old Isis said, as she pulled a nail file out of her small handbag.

"You mean, gamble?" Tristan laughed nervously. "I don't think that would work out so well."

Isis shrugged, as Eve sat back down at the brown leather sofa. Tristan was relieved to see that she had already finished her pizza and was being careful not to get her greasy hands on the sofa.

So Tristan was a bit… obsessive. But who could blame him? He had worked hard for his own little apartment, his own little life outside of the Montgomery household. It wasn't like he _didn't _have a life of luxury growing up. His mother, Hanna, was a popular Philly home shopping network host—Eve and Isis got 'samples' of everything Hanna sold, from new Gucci handbags, to the newest versions of the iPhone. As for their father, Mike was still the jock he was in high school. After playing lacrosse all four years of high school, Mike got an athletic scholarship to Hollis College, where he now was head coach of the men's lacrosse team. But Tristan didn't want to fall out of the rich social circle his parents had worked so hard to achieve. He shuddered at the thought of living a middle-class lifestyle, like Rhia Fields had to do.

So maybe gambling _was_ a good idea. It wasn't like he wasn't dabbling in other _conflicting_ hobbies in order to keep his apartment. He looked sideways at Isis, who was scrolling through her phone.

"Hey, turn on the news." Tristan and Eve looked at Isis, who signed and grabbed the remote. She flipped through the sports channels Tristan had been watching, until she reached the local news.

"The body of New England Patriots running back Chris Wilden has been found. The body was discovered last night, in a field three miles behind Wilden's apartment. The cause of death has not been determined. Wilden's father, Officer Wilden, was best known to Rosewood as the cop who rose to scandal for his methods in the Allison DiLaurentis murder…"

"God, what a waste of a beautiful life," Eve said with a sign, as she picked up the remote and lowered the volume. Eve had gotten a crush on Chris Wilden ever since he was drafted into the NFL three years ago and was heartbroken when he was announced missing.

"Betcha the Patriots would've made the Superbowl with him," Tristan commented.

"Hmmph," Isis responded with. She and Hanna were the only ones in their family that took no interest in any kind of sports.

Eve's phone suddenly chirped and she looked at it, groaning. "Mom wants us back for dinner." Isis glared at Tristan, as the two girls stood up, grabbing their purses and phones.

"Not coming to dinner?" Isis asked, a little snippy. Tristan was only one year older then Isis, but since Isis still lived with her parents, she and Eve were expected to come home at a certain hour and eat dinner with Hanna and Mike every night. This was more of Mike's rule, then Hanna's.

"Nope. I have to head in to work soon." Tristan quickly said. Even if he didn't have to work the late night shift at the local 24-hour grocery store, he wouldn't have wanted to go with his sisters to dinner. Tristan was desperate to break away from his parents, mostly because he knew they would kill him if they knew the things he was up to.

"I thought you quit that job," Eve commented, as she buttoned up her jacket.

"Not yet. Can't afford to," Tristan offered back. Thank God that the supermarket was a few miles away from Rosewood. He couldn't afford for any of his preppy Rosewood acquaintances to know he worked at a _supermarket._

Tristan had to hold three jobs, in order to pay his thousand-dollar rent every month—not to mention buying food and paying for cable. None of his jobs really fit the Montgomery's lavish lifestyle, but it was all worth it. At least that's what Tristan kept telling himself.

"See you later," Isis yelled over her shoulder, as she and Eve left the apartment, gently closing the door behind them. Tristan waited a few minutes, before heading over to his kitchen island, trying to decide what he should make for dinner. If he didn't eat before his late shift, he got all shaky and moody—just like Hanna did.

Tristan reached for the last few slices of pizza in the box, when he paused. There was one of Eve's rings resting near the box—she must've taken it off when she washed her hands and forgotten to put it back. Tristan recognized it as a birthday present Hanna had given her daughter—the ring was dainty, with a 16 karat diamond resting between two freshwater pearls.

Tristan picked up the ring, twirling it around his fingers. He thought for a minute, before carefully reaching for a plastic baggie in one of the kitchen drawers. He slid Eve's ring in the bag, and sealed it up. Eve had tons of rings like this—it wasn't like she didn't get one every birthday. She wouldn't miss one. And the money Tristan would get at the pawn shop for it would definitely help pay for Eve's _next_ birthday present.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note (Long-ish)_

_Crap. Has it really been since _**May** _when I last updated? Yes. Yes, it has._

_For those who are still reading and will read this story, thank you. Today, I finally got my stuff together and outlined the rest of the chapters. Here is chapter three, and there will be new chapters _every_ Monday, until around Thanksgiving, when I hope to finish the story._

_And if I fail to update, feel free to bombard my twitter, which I will list on my page soon._

_Thank you all again for the reviews and alerts! There's also another mention of a PLL character's son in this chapter—and he will play a big role in Gillian's secrets…_

**Chapter Three-Gillian**

It happened when Gillian Campbell was giving herself a pedicure.

Her romantic life tended to always have trouble, whenever Gillian pampered herself. Whenever she went to the spa, her boyfriend would text her nonstop—and then stop, whenever she was just lounging around her dorm. She always ran into ex-boyfriends whenever she was getting her hair done—usually because a fair amount of them had come out of the closet after they broke up—and she always saw her other crush, Jeremy Notti, whenever she went to the King James Mall to buy some new clothes. (Of course, Jeremy _did_ have a part time job at the Verizon store, but still.)

So, Gillian really should've known the trouble that was coming her way, as she opened up a new bottle of "Seduce Me Red."

"Gillian!" Somebody screamed and pounded on her dorm room door. "Are you there? I need to talk to you!"

Gillian recognized that voice immediately and groaned—it belonged to her twin brother, Sebastian. Even though he was older by three minutes, he sure acted like he was still in high school.

She recapped her nail polish and got up gingerly from the floor, trying not to smear any wet polish on the carpet. Gillian swung the door open and tried not to gasp out loud, when she saw who was standing next to Sebastian.

It was Craig Murray, TA for Professor Hale's Psychology classes—and Gillian's secret boyfriend.

She inhaled and glared at Craig, who looked uncomfortable. "What's going on?" She demanded to Sebastian, before pointing to Craig. "And what is he doing here?"

Sebastian placed his hands up and walked into Gillian's dorm. "Chill. He said he was coming up here to talk to you about a paper. What, are you two in a secret relationship, or something?"

Gillian rolled her eyes and punched her twin in the shoulder, trying to keep her stomach from rumbling. Sebastian was a slacker and had only gotten a few A's in his life, but he was very intuitive to everything else going on around him.

"Very funny. Now, what's so important that you couldn't wait until tomorrow to tell me?"

After her fall semester, Gillian had been forced to take a few classes with Sebastian. She fought with Spencer and Andrew tooth and nail, saying that it wasn't necessary to take a class with her twin brother. But both her parents had their reasons for doing so—Andrew wanted Gillian to look after Sebastian, especially after the Dan Incident, and Spencer thought it would be good for Gillian to be "well-rounded"—translated into taking classes outside of her Psychology major. So, every Friday afternoon, Gillian found herself sitting as far away from Sebastian during Professor's Dessen Intro to Financial Planning—another suggestion from Spencer.

"It's about Aunt Melissa. She's back in town and wants to see us." Sebastian made a face and flopped down on Gillian's sofa.

Melissa Hastings—the perfect, older sister of Spencer. For all of the horror stories that Gillian heard over the years about her aunt, she still never quite understood _why_ Melissa and Spencer had such a falling out. She had heard Andrew refer to things that happened during Spencer's junior and senior years of high school, but never got any detail about it.

Aunt Melissa was pretty cool, at least in Gillian's eyes. She was a PR consultant in New York City, and even though she was far too busy to ever settle down with a husband, she kept a steady string of rich and _much _older boyfriends—the current one being the president of CNN television.

Melissa was convinced that Spencer was going to royally screw up her children—the Dan Incident being one of her reasons why—so she visited Gillian and Sebastian every March, without fail. She would take them out to Philly for the weekend, or sometimes even New York City, if it was around Spring Break. They would eat at a lavish restaurant and go shopping, Melissa picking up the tab the whole way. All she wanted in return was the latest news in the twin's life—how college was going, if they were seeing anyone, if they had any rivals, if they were keeping up with the news. Sebastian faked getting sick the last time Melissa came around, and Gillian was forced to listen to Melissa go on about how Sebastian was going to end up like the homeless guy who lived near Hollis College, who liked to count the cracks on the sidewalk and spit on the pretty sorority girls, if they wouldn't give him any change.

"You might as well just get it over with," Gillian responded, as she shifted her green eyes over to Craig—who was _still_ standing in the doorframe. He had probably come up for one of their impromptu make out sessions, and Sebastian had ruined it—much like he ruined everything else in Gillian's life.

"You don't think I could fake being sick again?" Sebastian asked, as he picked up Gillian's throw blanket and started folding it into a perfect square. Gillian rolled her eyes—Sebastian had inherited Spencer's OCD, folding and rearranging anything and everything he could find.

"You _should_ just get it over with," Craig piped in. "I should know, I have a few relatives like that myself," He confessed, as he started pacing back and forth.

"I guess," Sebastian let out a tortured sigh, before reaching over for Gillian's cell phone and sliding it open. "You have a missed call. And a voicemail," he announced, before Gillian could jump over the sofa and grab the phone from him.

Sebastian glanced at the caller ID and made a face. "Dylan Beattie? Why is he calling _you?_"

Gillian shrugged and grabbed her phone from her brother's hands. "I dunno. I bet he has a question about our study group."

"Yeah, that's right," Sebastian said, as he scratched his chin and stood up. "He's in most of your classes, right?"

Gillian nodded and watched as Sebastian finally left her dorm. Craig watched for a minute, before slinking into the dorm and softly closing the door behind him.

"Is this a bad time?" He said, as he stared at Gillian. His sandy blonde hair fell onto his face, and Gillian could count all of the freckles on his nose from where he stood.

"No, it's not," Gillian lied, before leaping over to Craig, their lips fitting perfectly with each other. It _was _a bad time, but Gillian could figure out what she was doing in her love life later. She didn't have to tell Craig that Dylan was probably calling, because he had the answers for her bio quiz next week. Or the fact that she was headed to King James Mall later that night, so she could flirt with Jeremy.

No, all Craig had to know was that he was the only guy in Gillian's life.

For the time being, of course.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four-Chase**

"Ready to kick some ass this week, Kahn?"

Chase Kahn jerked and looked to his left, where his soccer teammate, Benjamin Rothrock sat next to him. It was Friday afternoon and once again, Chase had found himself daydreaming during lunch, too busy thinking about a certain somebody then remembering to eat his cold, soggy pizza.

"Sure I am," Chase croaked out, as he stretched his arms over his shoulder.

Benjamin cocked his head at Chase, before balling up a paper bag and flinging it at Chase's head. Chase reached for the bag and tossed it into the nearest recycling bin, before turning to glare at Benjamin.

"You sure don't _look_ ready, Kahn," Benjamin retorted, as he got up from his seat and bounced over to the recycling bin. "You do realize how important this game is tomorrow, right?"

"It's only a scrimmage," Chase responded. "Besides, you're the one worrying that we're going to get our asses kicked. At least I have two more seasons to redeem myself."

Benjamin shrugged and reached for his iPhone. "Coach wants us in the locker room in fifteen. Says he has some big announcement before practice today."

"See you then," Chase responded, as he got up, throwing his half-eaten lunch in the trash bin. This was the third day he had hardly eaten anything, but he figured as long as he didn't do a Nadal and pass out during practice, he would be fine.

Chase looked up, groaning when he saw his older sister, Corrine, make her way through the outdoor commons. He quickly ducked behind a tree and waited until Corrine and her posse was out of sight, before sprinting over to the locker room.

Chase had been doing that a lot lately—avoiding his sister and his parents as much as he could. He knew that his mother, Aria, was worried about him, but Noel kept insisting that their son was fine. He used the same excuse that Chase had been saying a lot—"He's going to be a senior in a few months, not to mention he's co-captain of the soccer team. No wonder he's been so jumpy lately."

Those were both true—if worrying about college and graduation—which were only a year and three months away—wasn't bad enough, Chase had to worry about the Rosewood Day Varsity Soccer team. This was his first year on varsity and he and few of the seniors—like Benjamin—had already sworn that they were going to make state this year and win. None of the guys liked to think about last year when their coach, Robert Kemmer, told the local paper that the boys were going to make it all the way to state—and then embarrassed himself when his team didn't even win enough games to make playoffs.

But there _was_ something else that had been bothering Chase lately—but he couldn't tell anybody about it. It made him feel sick inside, when he thought about his parents and this secret of his. Aria was still as free-spirited as she was supposedly in high school, and supported her children in whatever they did. Still being the big lacrosse jock he was back in high school—he would stop by Uncle Mike's practices at Hollis once in a while to help out—Noel had been disappointed when Chase tried out for the soccer team. But he was still proud that Chase and Corrine were smart _and_ athletic—he couldn't stand if either of his children were slackers, or stoners.

But even though Chase was the perfect son, there was still one thing that could totally change his parent's feelings for him. And as far as Chase was concerned, that little… _phase_ of his life could stay buried until it passed.

"Guys. Quit screwing around."

Chase sat down next to Benjamin and looked up, where Coach Kemmer was pacing back and forth in front of the whiteboard. He had been going crazy with the line-ups again, with at least four different scenarios scribbled out in heavy black marker.

"I'm pleased to announce that we have a new player for this year." Coach Kemmer looked to his right and motioned for someone to join him by the whiteboard. Chase dug his nails into his palm and whispered something to himself.

"This is Elusha Smirnov." Coach Kemmer reached for his notebook and flipped it open, reading several lines to himself before speaking up again. "Some of you may recognize him as the new exchange student from Russia."

"Hello," Elusha said slowly, a light Russian accent emerging from his full, pink lips. "Nice to meet you all."

Chase felt himself suck in a breath, as he studied Elusha. He was tall, his white tank-top revealing a bit of his stomach—tan and as flat as the cornfields where Chase's grandparents lived. Elusha had messy brown hair and liquid brown eyes. He turned toward Chase and smiled, his teeth white and straight.

"How come you're not playing for the baseball team?" Benjamin said, breaking Chase out of his daydreams. "Didn't they tell you about our soccer team and what happened last—"

"He wants to play for us," Coach Kemmer interrupted. "And I don't want you scaring him off, okay?" He slapped Elusha on the back with his notebook and nodded at him. "Meet us at the fields at three. The rest of you can go."

Chase's other teammates quickly got up and left, as the bell rang. Chase ignored it and walked up to Elusha, placing his hands in his pockets, so he wouldn't see them shake.

"Hi. I wanted to introduce myself. Chase Kahn." Chase stuck out his hand, and Elusha shook it, his grip tight.

"Nice to meet you. This should be a good season, no?" Elusha dropped his hand and smiled at Chase. He could feel his hands shake again and he quickly shoved them back in his pockets.

"Hopefully. What position do you play?"

"Midfield. Sometimes forward, if I'm feeling up to it." Elusha laughed. "How about you?"

"Defense."

"Ahh, so you're one of the unsung heroes, aren't you?" Elusha cocked his head and studied Chase, some of his hair falling into his eyes. "We always said that back home—that the defense is what makes or breaks the team."

"Right," Chase stuttered out, feeling his cheeks turning red. He had heard others say the same thing, but those words never made him feel as… special, as when Elusha just said them.

"See you at practice," Elusha called out. He slapped Chase on the back and walked off. Chase could hear the warning bell ring again, but he still felt stuck to the floor, his head whirling a mile a minute.

Of course. A hot Russian soccer player just had to appear in his life at this very moment. Like Chase _really_ needed to be reminded that he was gay.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note:_

_Thank you to all who reviewed and added my story to their alerts! _

**Chapter Five**

"Rhia? Do you have a minute?"

It was Friday morning and Rhia was racing to get everything she needed for school. She looked up from her gray messenger bag and nodded at Emily, who was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Sure," Rhia said slowly. "Is something wrong?"

Ever since Rhia had told Emily about Maya stopping by, her mom had been acting strange. She jumped whenever her cell phone rang and when somebody would stop by the house—like Chase, who had stopped by on Tuesday night—Emily would slink into her bedroom and tell Rhia to answer the door. Whoever Maya was, Emily sure didn't want her back in her life.

"You remember how I told you last week that Spencer Campbell is the new President of the Rosewood Chamber of Commerce?"

"Yeah." Rhia rolled her eyes. Ever since Spencer had been involved in the Rosewood Mayor scandal, she had been trying to prove to her community that she was still a "moral and ethical" person—or so her personal website said. She had been volunteering at the local hospital, and had gotten a new job in human resources at Rosewood Day. Now she was trying to get back to her community and work alongside Emily, at the Chamber.

"Well…" Emily looked down and laced her fingers together. "She asked me out to dinner tonight."

"Oh. Well, that should be fun." Rhia knew that Spencer and Emily had graduated the same year, but there was no way they could've been friends back then—they were just too different.

"The thing is, she's bringing her whole family along. Even Gillian and Sebastian."

"And?"

"She wanted to know if you would like to come along. And I said yes."

Rhia groaned and placed her head on the table. "Why would you tell her that? You know I don't like them very much. Don't you remember how horrible Sebastian was to me last year?"

"I _know,_" Emily said, her voice cracking a bit. "But people change, Rhia. Besides, making nice with the new president is important for me. It's important for _us._"

Rhia bit her lip and looked back up at her mom. Emily was starting to get those splotches appear under her cheeks.

"Fine. But let's not stay too long, okay?" Before Emily could start crying, or hug her, Rhia quickly got up and grabbed her bag.

"I forgot how beautiful this place is."

Rhia looked over at Gillian and resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. It was a quarter after six, and the Campbells, Rhia, and Emily were gathered around a long table at Maximilian's. It was a cozy bistro located right next to the Rosewood Country Club.

Rhia shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked around, trying to figure out _why_ the Campbells were so in love with this place. It wasn't the usual place that the elite of Rosewood would be seen at—it had been around ever since Emily was her age, and it was dark and stuffy. The back of the booths had started to crack and there was a smell of burning alcohol and steak that seemed to linger in the air.

"You're only saying that because this is where we went after Prom." Sebastian examined his silverware, before lining them up in a perfect row. He glanced up at Rhia and winked at her, his light blue eyes looking a little hazy in the fading light. Rhia let out a tiny groan and reached for her water glass, taking a large sip.

Gillian rolled her eyes and flipped her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder. "Just because you had a hell of a time in high school, doesn't mean _I_ can't cherish the memories I had." She glanced at Rhia, before offering her a small smile. "You are going to just love senior year, Rhi. It's the best experience you'll ever have."

Rhia glanced at Gillian, too shocked to say anything. From the moment she and Emily had arrived at Maximilian's, the Campbells had been overly nice. Spencer had hugged Emily like they were old friends, Gillian had actually engaged in conversation with Rhia—instead of just staring at her, like she was some sort of social freak—and Sebastian had yet to say one insulting thing at her. It was starting to freak Rhia out, and if it wasn't for Emily glancing over and mouthing "_Play nice," _Rhia would've bolted from the table and ran as fast as she could from the bistro.

"So, Rhia. Have you given any thought to what college you would like to go to?" Spencer unfolded and refolded her burgundy colored napkin, before peering over her cat-frame glasses at Rhia.

"Not really," Rhia confessed. "There are still so many things to think about, you know? I don't want to make a decision and have it fall through." She glanced at Gillian, who was now staring at somebody across the room. Spencer and Andrew would know _all_ about that—Gillian had bragged to everyone her senior year about how she was going to end up going to an Ivy League—which would've happened, if it hadn't been for her mother's fall from grace.

"Oh my God," Gillian tugged on Sebastian's sleeve and pointed across the room. "Is that—"

"Mariah Wolford?" Sebastian nodded his head quickly, before doing a double take. "Who's that girl with her?"

Rhia turned around, where Mariah—a curvy, pretty brunette who was in her Lit class—was standing in the front doors of the bistro. She had her right arm wrapped around the waist of a tall, skinny girl with spiky bleached blonde hair.

Gillian let out a scoff. "Please, Sebastian. You can't tell me that you don't remember what Mariah was famous for in sophomore year."

"Oh, right." Sebastian balled up his napkin and flung it on the table. "She's a dyke."

Rhia sucked in a breath and turned back to the table. Silence had filled the air, and Andrew spit out his mouthful of wine back into his cup.

"What did you say, Sebastian?" Andrew said, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I said, she's a dyke, Dad. It's not a secret, or whatever. Everybody was there when she hooked up with that girl at Tristan's party." Sebastian looked around the table, where Spencer was staring at him with cold eyes. "What?" he asked.

"I do _not_ want you saying that word," Spencer said, her voice cold.

Sebastian laughed and leaned back in his seat. "Why not?"

"Because, it's insulting and derogatory." Spencer looked over at Emily, who had turned a ghostly shade of white. "If I hear you use that word again—or any kind of derogatory term, you'll be going to the community college. Understand?"

Sebastian muttered something and quickly looked down, as Emily's phone chirped. She quickly yanked it out of her pocket and glanced at the Caller ID, her face returning some color. "It's my boss," she told Rhia, her voice showing relief. "I'll be right back." Emily quickly leaped out of her chair and paced to the outdoor patio. Rhia took another sip of water and glanced at the Campbells, who for once, had nothing to say.

"Are you sure you're alright, Mom?"

It was now after nine, as Emily pulled into their driveway. Ever since Sebastian's comment, Emily had seemed jumpy and shocked—looking around her shoulder and not saying a word.

"Yes." Emily looked at Rhia, as she unlocked the front door. "Are you okay?"

Rhia nodded slowly, as they stepped inside their house. She wasn't quite sure what had happened at the dinner, but she had a sinking feeling that it had to do with the appearance of Maya.

"I'm taking a bath," Emily said, as she kicked off her heels. "Let me know if you need anything."

Rhia nodded, watching as her mom weaved her way through the mess in the living room. She waited until she heard the bathroom door click close, before she went in her room and powered up her laptop, clicking and typing her way through her emails.

"Please pick up. Please pick up."

Rhia jerked and turned toward her left. She could hear the sound of the bathwater running, but Emily's voice sounded like it came from the backyard. Rhia got up slowly and left her room, hiding around the linen closet door when she saw Emily, pacing up and down the deck.

"Maya? It's me, Em." Emily's voice was soft, and she wiped away a tear with her left hand. "Listen, I'm sorry that I didn't return your calls. I've been thinking about it and… I think it would be good. For us to see each other again. Call me when you get this."

Rhia quickly sprinted back to her room, her heart hammering a mile a minute. She waited until she heard the bathroom door open and shut again, before she opened another web browser and went to Google, her fingers shaking as she typed in "Emily Fields."

Rhia paused, her fingers lingering over the "Enter" button. What was she doing, anyway? There was probably nothing major going on with Emily. Maya had probably been Emily's best friend in high school and they had drifted apart. It wasn't like Emily would keep something from her daughter, right?


	6. Chapter 6

This story is currently on hiatus.

I have the rest of the chapters outlined and will begin writing them after the holidays. Once I finish writing the chapters, I will post them and complete the story.

Once again, thanks to all who reviewed and added this story to their alerts.


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